Thunder And Lightning
by nerwende90
Summary: Five year old Sam is trying to fight his own fears during a thunderstorm. This fic I actually wrote for myself, you'll know why if you read the A/N in the end. ONESHOT fluffy brotherly love. No pairing.


The world is coming to an end.

That's what five year old Sam Winchester thought as the thunderstorm was raging outside. He lay curled up underneath his covers, shaking like a leaf. He was sure that sooner or later a lightning would strike the building and everyone would be killed. Silent fearful tears ran down his cheeks. He made a point of being quiet. He didn't want Dean to know he was scared. He wanted to be a big boy.

Another loud and angry grumble came from the sky and Sammy let out a yelp of surprise. It was getting louder, which meant the thunder was drawing closer. He got one hand from under the covers to grab a pillow and put it over his head in an attempt to block the noise. But no matter what he did, he could still hear the rumble that Dean had once referred to as "God playing bowling".

Whimpering in fear he threw away his pillow and got back under the covers, his hands glued to his ears. Why did Dad have to book a motel room with _three_ bedrooms? He wanted his brother so badly right now. But he would never go get him in his room, even if his life depended on it. He was a big boy, he could handle it. Besides Dean was probably sleeping.

Just as he started to relax a little, thinking about his brother, the brightest lightning he had ever seen came out, quickly followed by the loudest rumble ever. Sam yelped again and started to cry, now completely and utterly scared. He wanted his Mom, but Dad said she was in Heaven. He wanted his Dad, but he was working. He wanted Dean, but Dean was in the other room, and Sammy was afraid that if he got up, the lightning would find him and strike him.

"Hey Sammy, get out from under there."

Sam tensed. He could have sworn he'd heard his brother's voice. He lay still for a second, listening.

"Come on, Sammy, I wanna show you something."

But Sam was too frightened to move. Soon a hand tugged gently at the covers, and the little boy did nothing to stop it. His eyes were met by his big brother's, who was smiling reassuringly at him.

"Hey Champ. Figured you weren't sleeping."

Sam said nothing, but he threw himself at Dean all the same. "Whoa, hey, easy there." Dean chuckled. But Sammy only tightened his grip around his brother's neck. He was so glad Dean was there. It seemed like he didn't even have to be called to know his baby brother needed him. And Sam was okay with that.

Dean returned the hug for a brief second before letting go and picking up something on the bed. "Here," he said, "I made you something." This got Sam's interest and he let go in turn and let him curiosity take over his fear.

It was a picture drawn by Dean, but a weird one. It showed a church, a tree, a house, a car and a man. Dean had also drawn a black cloud with a little lightning under it. "What is it?" Sam's shaky voice asked.

"This, brother," Dean said proudly, "Is the proof that thunderstorms are nothing to be afraid of." He pointed at the lightning. "You see, when the lightning falls from the clouds, it's attracted to the highest spot it can find. And as you can see, churches are _way_ higher than houses. And they have lightning rods."

"What's a lightning road?"

Dean smiled. "Lightning _rods_. It's like a metal stick you put on top of buildings, like a church. It attracts lightning like a magnet and throws it into the ground so it doesn't hurt anybody."

Sam looked at the picture and seemed to consider it for a moment. "What if there's no church around?"

"Well, I guess that leaves trees." He pointed to the hastily drawn anorexic tree on the right of the paper. "They're higher than houses, so if the lightning's got to hit something, it'll hit a tree."

"But Mrs. Burton said that we shouldn't stand under trees during a thunderstorm."

Dean nodded, "That's because if the lightning falls on a tree, branches can catch fire and fall and hurt you. But you're safe as long as you're in a house or," he pointed at the last item on the picture, "In a car. Cars are thunder-proof."

Dean smiled at his brother again, and was pleased to see that Sammy actually smiled back. "So," he asked, "You gonna be okay for tonight, or you wanna sleep in my bed?"

Sam considered for a moment, then shook his head. "'m good."

Dean nodded proudly. "That's my boy." He went to get up, but a hand grabbed his wrist. "What is it, munchkin?"

"Can I keep the picature?"

Dean chuckled, "_Picture_" he corrected again, "And sure, why not?" He folded the paper and gave it to his brother. "You just keep it. And if you ever get scared by a thunderstorm, you just look at it and remember that you're safe. Okay?"

A nod. "Okay."

"Night Sammy."

"Night Dean."

* * *

"You've gotta be kidding me!"

Sam went back in the motel room and immediately regretted it. There stood Dean with his twenty one year old picture in his hand. And a goofy, mocking grin on his face.

"I can't believe you kept that stuff!"

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I don't expect you to understand, but everyone – and by 'anyone' I mean 'normal people' – likes to keep some stuff from their childhood. I kept this."

Dean looked at him in confusion. "Okay, let's say I don't think you're dumb. Why keep _that_? That's not even a good picture."

Sam huffed. "I don't know. It's just a good memory, you know? You actually taking time to draw me a picture to explain why I don't have to be afraid." He shrugged "Besides I just always stuffed it in my bags without thinking about it."

Dean seemed satisfied with this explanation and gave the picture back to Sam. He took his duffle and both brothers hurried to get in the car without being too damped from the pouring rain.

"So, Wisconsin?"

Sam nodded. "Wisconsin."

They drove silently for about an hour before a lightning struck, followed by a rumble.

"Sam." Dean called, deadly serious.

"What."

"If you get too scared," he looked his brother in the eyes, "Just look at the _picature_, and remember that you're safe." He grinned widely.

Sam shook his head. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

_The End._

* * *

_This is actually a tribute to my Dad (who is not dead, don't worry!) who actually drew this very picture for the frightened five-or-so year old that I was and gave me about the same explanations. And after that, I never got scared by a thunderstorm again. I don't know why I remember this, but it was so cute I had to make a wee!chester fic out of it. Even though he's never gonna read this, it's just my way to tell my Dad I love him and I remember how nice he was to me that night._

nerwende


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